


The Seven Sins of Formula 1

by Horse_and_arrow



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Anger, Arrogance, Disappointment, Dom/sub, Fights, Food, Hurt, Lazy - Freeform, M/M, Regret, Revenge, Sparkly, Surprise Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horse_and_arrow/pseuds/Horse_and_arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short(ish) fics about the driver pairings in formula 1, set to the theme of the seven sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Greed

**Author's Note:**

> This is slash, don't like it, don't read it ;)  
> These driver pairings are for the 2013 formula one season.  
> I will try and finish this fic before the end of the F1 season, no promises! ;)

Greed- Wanting too much of something...

 

As Sebastian approaches Mark after qualifying in the Red Bull cool down area, he is met by a satisfied smirk from his older team mate. Mark has out qualified him, making the young German's fists curl in rage.  
He walks over until he is face to face with Mark, edging him back until his heels connect with the wall.

Sebastian is the best. Its not an option not to be the best. That's how he functions.  
So not being number one hurts, it angers him, it makes it worse that it is his team mate that deprives him. He doesn't want to be happy for Mark, he doesn't care if the Aussie only has a few more races in his F1 career. He wants, no he needs, to be the best at everything. This only makes him detest the man in front of him even more.

Sebastian uses his hand to grab Mark's neck, with not much conviction behind the assault at all. He eyes the Aussie up with lust, loathing and raw jealously, beginning to draw his hand from his neck to his chest.

"You're not happy I bet you today then Seb" Mark asks emotionlessly. He tilts his head to the side, surveying the young German in front of him who is now beginning to undo his race suit for him. Mark brings a finger up to Sebastian's chin to encourage him to look him in the eye.  
"You need to stop being so greedy." He finishes mater of fact, allowing a slight smirk form on his lips. Mark knows Sebastian too well.

Sebastian doesn't want to hear his shit, he knows it off by heart and he also knows his place. That doesn't stop him from challenging it though. He brings his hands to Mark's shoulders, engulfing Mark's mouth with a rough, violating kiss as he does. Mark responds by allowing his hands to roughly explore Sebastian's ass, bringing their hips together in a instant heat of lust. 

Sebastian wants to be in control, sick of being the one who always gives, he wants to get one over on Mark, a sort of a revenge for qualifying. He wants to be the dominant one for once. Mark has other plans. Being the taller, stronger man, he has already swapped positions and has Sebastian in the one he had Mark minutes before. 

Mark adores his love/ hate relationship with Sebastian, they hate each other, its true, but he also cant get enough of Sebastian's physical contact.  
Mark doesn't know how he is going to cope next year, after his f1 career is a thing of the past and he no longer has Sebastian at his disposal. He craves him, lusts for him. The boy infuriates him but at the same time is the most exciting and fascinating thing he's ever tasted. He's addicted to Sebastian, but Sebastian will never be allowed to know that.

Mark is now taking all his clothes off and ushering Sebastian to kneel. Sebastian, fulfilling his despised roll beautifully, does what is encouraged by Mark and obediently opens his mouth for him to enter fully with his semi hard cock.  
Sebastian knows the game. He allows his tongue to swirl around marks head, roughly moving his hand along the now rock hard shaft, the way Mark likes it. He despises the dominance Mark has over him, but he understands in a way. They both play the role so well. Sebastian has tried, like now, in the past to assert authority over Mark, but has learned over his time at Red Bull he is definitely better at being controlled than doing the controlling.

Mark grabs a hand full of Sebastian's hair, pulling his head back to get a better angle for maximum pleasure. He thrusts into Sebastian's mouth, hitting the sweetness at the back of his throat. He holds his position for as long as he feels Sebastian can stand it by watching his eyes fill with tears. He then withdraws before slowly starting up a steady rhythm, never allowing Sebastian to recover fully.  
The warmth, the satisfaction he gets out of using Sebastian like that, its powerful, its the only power he truly feels he has left over the boy.  
Feeling his impending orgasm building, he speeds back up. Sebastian, noting the sense of urgency in marks actions, begins to increase his rhythm with his tongue and his hand. He begins to control the one thing he has over Mark in there little game. He savors this moment.  
Mark cums in Sebastian's mouth, his seed being swallowed up and licked away obediently. Mark withdraws his cock from Sebastian, turning his back to him and begins to dress. 

Sebastian feels his own arousal. He wants Mark to satisfy him, but he never does. Mark now fully dressed looks at the panting mess that is Sebastian. 

"looks like you need to sort yourself out" he says, nodding his head towards Sebastian's straining race suit.

"I was hoping you'd do me the pleasure" Sebastian replies, his voice sounding shaky and far too desperate for his own liking. 

Mark simply smirks at the young German, turns on his heels and is gone though the door.

"And he has the cheek to call me greedy" Sebastian mutters to himself, allowing the tiniest smile to spread over his lips. He wonders what its going to be like with Daniel next year. Will the rolls reverse? In his heart, Sebastian hopes not.

He already missed Mark, how was he ever going to cope next season.


	2. Gluttony

Gluttony - Similar to greed, but gluttony is the action of taking too much of something in, usually perceived as food. 

 

Fernando lies the bed naked on his stomach, anticipating what his teammate has in store for him. It had became a regular habit, him and Felipe, ever since he joined the team. But the news that Felipe would be leaving to go to Williams at the end of the season only fuelled there need, there hunger for each other.

Felipe approached Fernando, his footsteps altering the Spaniard to this, making him tingle with excitement.  
The tingles only increase as a warm, thick liquid hits Fernando's spine, causing him to catch his breath.

To begin with, Fernando thinks is massage oil, that Felipe is going to sooth his back after his run in with the kerbs in Abu Dhabi. However, he then smells the unmistakable smell of sweet, delicious chocolate.

Felipe edges himself onto the bed, leaning over Fernando's back, trailing feather like kisses down the centre of his back, licking the sweet tasting liquid off his lips as he does so. He knows what Fernando's back and neck have been through recently and daren't do anything that might compromise his recovery.

Reaching the base of Fernando's spine, he puts more of the liquid on his ass, swirling it around with his fingers, creating lines that are only there momentarily before they are lapped up. Felipe worships Fernando's ass, the rounded, fullness of it. He can't help having a bite, leaving light teeth marks that make Fernando buck up in anticipation. 

Retreating from the Spaniards already quivering body, he stands up and gently rolls him over. Felipe surveys the selection of treats he has in store lying on the table, deciding on a strawberry to go with the chocolate. 

Felipe drizzles the sauce over the strawberry, being careful to deliberately let some fall on Fernando's naked stomach, making sure he has something to clean up later. He brings the chocolate covered strawberry to his mouth, teasing it with his tongue, electing a delicious sound from Fernando, a noise of want and lust, a noise of gluttony. 

He puts him out his missery, holding the fruit in his teeth and transferring it to Fernando's mouth from his own. 

The Brazilian and Spaniard are locked in heated, passionate kiss, both hungry for each other, worried they will be left starved, getting there fill before the banquet is over.


	3. Envy

Envy - Jealousy; wanting to have what someone has.

 

As Sergio sat in the McLaren hospitality aimlessly shifting his lunch around his plate, he noted all the people who were avoiding him. People who would usually give him a polite "hello" or a smile, at least a nod of the head as they past. 

Since news had broke about his departure from the team at the end of the season, he'd felt excluded. He felt like a discarded piece of rubbish that no longer had a use in the well oiled machine that was McLaren. And the tension, god the tension between him and the team was unbearable. 

As more people past, averting there gaze or pretending to be busy on their phone, Sergio deliberately stared them out. He was angry, angry at the fact he had put his faith in a so called promising team that he had given his all too. A team that had lost form this season and in turn, made Sergio look incompetent and like he wasn't up to the job. 

Sergio threw his fork down on his plate in frustration, getting a few looks from the tables around him, the hushed discussions going silent. He slumped back in his chair and allowed his arms to hang by his side.

As if he wasn't upset enough, in walks one of the main reasons for his annoyance.  
Jenson draws the exact opposite response than the one Sergio has been receiving, they practically roll out a red carpet and velvet railings.  
Sergio begins to breath heavier, trying to control his rage at the unfairness of it all.

Jenson hadn't always been the golden boy, but since Hamilton went to Mercedes, and Sergio had arrived, his god like status had been cemented.  
Jenson was a charmer, and not only with the ladies in f1. His good looks and persona got him far, battering his eyelids and turning on the smile to get what he wanted was one of Jenson's skills. He was able to draw people into conversations and leave them wanting more as he swooned away, knowing that his words would be remembered, adhered too.

Jenson absentmindedly leans on the bunker, waiting for his order that he had just given the pretty girl in hospitality. He can feel someone watching him, an uneasiness creeping over him. He slowly stands up, and begins to turn around, looking at the very uninteresting ceiling. He then brings his gaze down to survey the room. Then he sees the reasons for the uneasiness, the person who is staring holes into him, he sees Sergio.

Jenson feels a pang of guilt in his stomach, he's wasn't sure why. He shouldn't feel guilty that he had a seat in McLaren and Perez didn't. He had his own career to worry about without worrying about the Mexican. He had time on his side, he was young, he was talented and this wouldn't be the end of him.

Jenson nodded his head in acknowledgement towards Sergio, smiling softly and matching the young Mexicans stare. Sergio simply stares. No emotion protruding from him, his face a blank page.

Sergio continues to try and control his rage. How dare he, how dare Jenson patronise him. He didn't care about Jenson, he was nothing to him. He was a world champion once, but now he was nothing, he was equal to him if not below.  
Perez just couldn't understand. Why would McLaren pick an ageing has been instead of him, who in his heart of heart, knew could progress next season. How could McLaren fall for all Jenson's seductions.

Yes, Jenson was the golden boy of McLaren, the mr popular of the paddock. 

Sergio allowed his rage to engulf him. He stood up, scraping his chair along the ground in a hideous way, and turned and walk out of the doors of the McLaren hospitality.

The low murmurs were more audible now, people exchanging raised eyebrows and knowing looks. 

Jenson stood watching Sergio as he went, wanting to help, wanting to go after him. Jenson however knew deep down that he was the reason for the actions of the Mexican in the first place, and he would probably be the last person Sergio would want to see right now.


	4. Sloth

Sloth - Being too lazy at doing something.

 

Kimi was well aware of the young Frenchman looking at him. He could practically feel the want, the need, the desire radiating through the thick air.  
Romain was always hungry, hungry to a point where Kimi couldn't keep up with him...

Kimi sensed Romain rise from the chair and begin to make his way over to him. He continued to absentmindedly watch something on the telly, even though he wasn't quite sure what it was about, pretending not to notice the advances.  
He'd just got comfortable. He'd had a long day in the gym, not to mention the torture of media responsibilities that had been sprung on him. Kimi hates surprises and media appearances, but put the two together...

And anyway, he and Romain had fucked twice this morning...

Standing behind Kimi's chair, Romain gave him a wicked grin before bending down to place his head level with the Finns ear. He turned his head to face Kimi, softly breathing him in, his desire and lust growing. He closed his eyes before pushing in and placing an ever so light kiss on Kimi's earlobe.

Kimi knew it... 

Romain was always the instigator, he was the one who was always looking for advice, comfort, sex... Kimi was usually the provider. When he could be bothered. 

Kimi gave a gentle sigh and slowly turned his head to face Romain, looking him directly in the eye.

"And what are you after?" Kimi stated, very much already aware of what Romain was looking for.  
Romain looked Kimi in the eye, a look full of want, need. Full of lust and naughtiness.  
He slowly brought his lips to Kimi's, stopping millimetres away, agonisingly close as ever, as he relished the older man being in charge.

Kimi was now interested at least...

Kimi pulled away and brought his eyes back to the telly, still blissfully unaware of what the hell he was watching. He would make Romain work for his attention this time.

Romain, never one to feel defeated, decided to use another approach. Standing tall, he strode over to the telly and switched the volume off.

Kimi stared at him, trying to mask his amusement at the fake angry face Romain was using. He could read him like a book...

Still pouting and wrinkling his nose, Romain began to hastily undress, roughly throwing his clothes in Kimi's general direction. He'd get his attention somehow, especially if Kimi was going to make it a challenge.

Kimi continued to stare at Romain, keeping his face set on boredom.  
He wasn't really bored obviously. He quite enjoyed having a hot, sexy naked Frenchman standing in front of him, craving his attention, wanting all that Kimi could give him. 

But Kimi was going to make him work. It was Romain who started this, so he could do the work. Anyway, Kimi could take or leave sex right now, his drive wasn't what it used to be when he was Romain's age. 

There were advantages and disadvantages to younger men...

Before Kimi knew it, Romain was straddling Kimi. He had thrown his arms around Kimi's neck, bringing there faces once again agonisingly close.  
Kimi looked Romain squarely in the eye, not giving anything away, all the while relishing the Frenchman who was now desperately trying to gain some delicious friction from Kimi.

"You want this, Romain?" Kimi asked in his almost whisper of a voice, loving the shiver of anticipation Romain gave as he did.  
Romain could barely string words together, beginning to gain the sought after friction and getting hard with it. 

Kimi brushes his lips with Romain's, feeling his soft breath hit him, the hitch of anticipation. He then decided that he'd put the poor guy through enough.

"You want it Romain, you do the work" Kimi stated to Romain whilst trying to disguise the need he now had building, throwing his arms above his head to hold onto the head of couch. He placed his eyes back on the telly, once again trying to look interested in it. It was difficult. 

It was extremely difficult when Romain then got on his knees and began to suck his cock. His mouth feeling so beautifully talented.  
The way he teased Kimi, the anticipation he built and then released bit by bit, like a pressure valve, building Kimi up, then letting him down again, just before he was at the point of no return. Something Kimi had taught him well.

Romain was soon retreating to the bathroom to get lube, giving Kimi time to adjust and compose himself. He was enjoying the visage of 'not giving a shit' but had to admit, Romain was getting close to breaking down the walls.

And then Romain was straddling Kimi again, rubbing his ass cheeks along Kimi's length, teasing his own hole with Kimi's cock. He hadn't even bothered to take Kimi's trousers off fully.

Romain had already taken the liberty to prepare himself Kimi noted as the younger man rocked more erratically over the Finns cock. 

"God Kimi, I need you, I need you now... s'il vous plaît!" Romain was now breathing heavily Into Kimi's ear, the sweet sound of him coming apart on top of him, becoming too much for Kimi. 

Romain lifted himself up and then slowly lowered himself onto Kimi's hard clock.  
Kimi's reserve was gone.  
His mask slipped, allowing Romain to see exactly what he was doing to him. The way he was piece by piece taking him apart through his torment, his beautiful assault. The sensation of his cock being encased by the young Frenchman's tight ass was nearly too much to bare. Well, nearly.

Romain gave Kimi another wicked smile. Knowing exactly what he was doing to the older man was going to spur him on, he wanted to break Kimi's resolve, he couldn't hide from him anymore.

Kimi brought his mask back up, repositioning his relaxed head and arms against the back of the couch.

"What are you waiting for Romain?" Kimi whispered, bringing his eyes back to the telly over his shoulder, almost taunting him.

Romain believed none of it. 

Ever so slightly, he moved up, the slight burning sensation mingled with euphoria, a low groan emitting from the Frenchman. 

Kimi could feel the same from the other end, he revelled in the vibration around his cock from the ripples of pleasure that were now running through Romain' body.

Increasing the pace, Romain now leaned forward, deciding he'd had enough of games. He thrust his lips to Kimi's, blanking out the rest of the world. Making the first move for once turned Romain on even more, he was hungry for power.  
Kimi was surprised by the role reversal, surprised but not disappointed. He brought his hands down to Romain's hips, softly stroking them, a gentle contrast to the spine tingling thrusts that the younger man was supplying.

Romain was breathing obscenities in Kimi's ears, a mixture between English and French. This told Kimi that Romain was close, his ability to speak a foreign language now distorted.  
Kimi made to grasp Romain's now weeping cock, to supply some relief, to make him feel as good as he felt.  
Romain however simply placed Kimi's hands back over his head, looked him in the eye and with great difficulty said "I'm doing the work, remember".  
He just had time to flash a devilish smile at Kimi before burying his head into the Finns neck, beginning his relentless and satisfying rhythm once more.

Then, Kimi was gone. He was on the cusp, at the point of no return, falling so sweetly, so beautifully Romain noted, like every fantasy he's ever had rolled into one.  
Romain gently rocked his hips, drawing Kimi's release, allowing the Finn to come down from his high by pulling his body off Kimi and resting next to him.  
Kimi was spent. He had been dissected in a manner which was so beautiful, so intimate. He felt a tinge on guilt at what they had shared being so one sided, making Romain do all the work. He made a mental note to repay sometime, Maybe.

Romain was now releasing himself. Kimi watched in awe at the beautiful, sensual act next to him. He was so caught up in this man, so, addicted.  
As Romain came, he whispered words to Kimi, grabbing at him in ecstasy, his beautiful big brown eyes telling the true story. Kimi had no idea what he had said in French but knew it was directed at him.

Romain took a couple of minutes to come round after his exertion. He lay close to Kimi, enjoying the body warmth and the way Kimi attentively stoked his hips. It was sort of protective, he felt safe. 

Kimi sat with Romain in his grasp, his, all his. He relished these moments of intimacy, he was enjoying the aftermath of sex rather than the actual act more these days.  
As he looked at Romain, the Frenchman gave him a look, a look of lust and want. 

He wanted more...

Younger men, Kimi thought. No wonder he had a bad back...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "s'il vous plait" is French for "please" ;)


	5. Lust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decided to carry on with this Fic thanks to some inspiration... they know who they are! ;)
> 
> <3

Lust - The need to fulfill sexual desires.

 

Leaving his apartment in Monaco after an exceptionally large argument with Vivian, Nico new exactly where he was going.  
They had been distant with each other for a while, things just weren't the same; they say that's what happens when you're with someone from when you are so young.  
Nico was pretty sure he had fallen out of love with Vivian. She was a nice girl, definitely girlfriend, if not wife material. But he just wasn't interested.   
He craved the touch of someone else. He had for a while now.

But he was confused at what he felt. He felt these feelings for a man. And that man just happened to be one of his closest friends.

Climbing the steps to Lewis' apartment, Nico thought that he must be crazy doing this. He was putting so much on the line, so much could back fire. Lewis had only ever been a friend to him, he had never given him any inclination that he was attracted to him or was interested in being more.

But still, the craving Nico felt, he need to know for sure.

Wasting no time, Nico harshly knocked on the door. A few seconds later Lewis answered.  
And there he was. The image Nico so badly lusted over, the man he thought about when he was making love to Vivian or touching himself in the shower. Or even when his mind drifted off into a far away place when sitting in his Mercedes during a wet practice session.

Lewis smiled and made to speak. He, however, was cut off by Nico's lips roughly colliding with his.

Nico decided that not explaining was probably the best idea; judge Lewis' reaction and explain later if need be. There was no going back now anyway.  
Lewis tensed as his lips were caught by Nico. He was frozen to the spot, unable to break free or react. Nico was curious to understand what was going on in Lewis' head, willing him to return the intimacy, at worst, push him away. Least he'd know where he stood.  
Eventually, to Nico's relief, Lewis brought his hands up to his shoulders and began to gip them tightly. Nico took this as an invitation to take things to the next stage.

Nico whipped his tongue over Lewis' mouth, gaining access instantly. Lewis returned the messy, rough kiss, both men now tugging at each other's clothes as they did so. 

Both there actions were rapid, passionate and needy. Nico couldn't believe he was eventually in this position, that all his lustful fantasies were coming true. Lewis was so willing, so responsive to his touch, it was like a beautiful dream that he hoped wouldn't end any time soon.  
Lewis pulled back and looked at Nico with a fire burning so deeply in his eyes that the German was in awe. He had never seen that look from Lewis before, it was sexy and it turned him on even more. 

Lewis then began to walk backwards, pulling Nico roughly but the scruff of his t-shirt.  
Once hitting the obstacle that was the back of couch, the two men began their assault once again on each other's mouths, hands travelling into hair and grabbing each other's ass.   
Nico then took control and turned Lewis around, bending him over the couch, allowing himself to lie over his back and begin nipping with his teeth at his neck. He then brought his hands under to Lewis' stomach and drew his nails over the ripples of muscle, beginning to feel the build of arousal in his own pants.   
As he rocked his hips into Lewis ass to get some beautiful friction, he could hear the Brit panting hard, muttering words incoherent to Nico.

Nico drew his hands lower until they were pulling down Lewis' trousers and underwear, gaining access easily.  
Lewis gripped at the couch and groaned as Nico began to squeeze and ever so slowly run his nails over his ass, just as he always imagined he'd love to whist lusting over Lewis in his fantasies.  
The Brit was panting even hard now, desperately trying to gain some friction on the couch for his hard cock that was paining him for release.   
He managed an almost pleading "please Nico". Nico was pretty sure he was being begged now.

"Please what?" Nico panted back cruelly. Even in this situation, Nico liked to tease his friend into submission. He was enjoying his role as the dominant lover.

"Pll-please. I want to feel you in me.." Lewis' words were broken and laboured, Nico didn't think he could hold on much more. 

Well, maybe just a little more teasing.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you" Nico whispered dangerously in Lewis's ear, feeling the goose pimples rise on his skin and the whines of pleasure leave his mouth as he began to run his hands between the Brits thighs.

"Fuck me. For goodness sake Nico, I'm begging you! Please! Fuck me."

Time to put him out of his misery Nico decided.

He allowed his trousers and underwear fall to the floor. He ran his hand firmly over his shaft, careful not to touch his sensitive head, he didn't think he would last much longer as it was.  
Lewis could obviously sense the change in Nico's actions as he was now rutting his ass backwards in anticipation, trying to make contact with Nico, as if to hurry him up.

Nico was however suddenly nervous. This was new, he'd never done this with a man. With his finger, he circled Lewis's hole, almost torn apart by the beautiful noises of pleasure it cause Lewis to make.   
He took is time, savouring the noises, Lewis' dirty words and the brand new experience he was having. He'd imagined and lusted over doing this to Lewis for so long, only this was so much more than he could ever have imagined.

Eventually, after a couple of minutes that felt like an eternity, Lewis seemed relaxed enough for Nico to enter him.  
All of Nico's nerves were on fire. He could feel the anticipation building in his stomach, the familiar feeling he got before he climaxed. He had to slow this down or he wasn't going to last.

But how do you tell your boy to wait for something it's so close too when you've wanted it for so long already?

Nico steadied himself with one hand on the couch and slowly entered Lewis. Lewis groaned and cursed, but the words he then spoke where only of encouragement.  
Nico was finding it near impossible to hold it together, the anticipation, tension and lust in his body was spurring him on. He eventually started moving, wary of Lewis who was nearly screaming his name underneath him.

"Fuck Nico. Yes, yes, please, harder.."

The words were all Nico needed. He lost it completely. Letting go, Nico allowed both of his hands to grip tightly to Lewis' hips. He began to thrust rapidly, a sweat beginning to form on his forehead and roll down his temple.   
Lewis was falling under him, barely able to grab at the couch, now screaming his orgasm. His ass then contracted around Nico's cock, bringing him to his glorious end also.   
Nico allowed a couple more thrusts as he felt the feeling of fatigue roll over him, finally too spent to cause any more pleasure to himself or Lewis.

Lewis turned around and instantly threw his arms around Nico. He brought his mouth to his neck, running kisses from his ear to his collarbone. He tenderly ran his fingers up and down Nico's sides, settling on the small of his back and rubbing his palm in comforting circles.  
The Brit then brought his face from Nico's neck and looked the German in the eye, the dark fire gone, only happiness and some unanswered questions remaining.

"Want to explain some of this to me?" Lewis said, obviously understandably curious of the German's actions tonight. 

Nico looked straight back at him and answered with a contented sigh and a smile, a simple "No".  
He then brought Lewis back into another kiss, just as lustful as the first. He'd much rather his actions done the talking for him.

After all, how do you explain to your best friend and teammate that they are your ultimate sexual desire?


	6. Wrath

Wrath - Vindictive anger or want of revenge. 

 

Jev was still finding it difficult to really come to terms with what was happening. It had been months since the news had broke that he was losing the love of his life to Red Bull. He and Daniel had started as teammates, became friends and eventually, lovers.

Jev had adored the man. The way he raced the type of person he was. But he especially loved the way they fitted so well together when they made love. The way Daniel would not be shy about telling Jev exactly how he wanted him and when. 

However, everything changed that day he found out. He found out on twitter of all places. He could still remember the feeling of hurt and utter betrayal he felt when understanding that he had found out along with the rest of the world.

He was losing him. The prick didn't even have the balls to tell him to his face.

They had argued. Daniel had tried to explain to Jev, telling him, 'they released the pictures early, I was going to tell you'.

Bullshit, all his words like poisoned daggers piercing his body, slowly killing him from the inside out.  
He was already losing him, the lies had began. Be needed to close off from the man. 

This was far too complicated.

So he distanced himself from Daniel. He told him he didn't want to see him anymore. He didn't want to speak to him, he didn't want his body lying with him every night.

Except he did. 

He longed for Daniel, he wished that he could be with him. He wanted to feel the connection, the love, the passion that was so clearly still there in his heart.

But Daniel had moved on. 

Over time, he began to feel even angrier, he had though that Daniel would have fought for him, wouldn't have taken no for an answer. But he had.   
Jev believed he had began to resented the man, an anger boiling in him whenever he looked at him in the Toro Rosso garage or when he seen promotional snaps of Daniel in his red bull things.

It hadn't meant anything to Daniel, all those nights he had told him he loved him, made him feel like the only man in the world worthy of him. All bullshit.

But what really made him seethe was the sight of Daniel chatting away with Seb, his new teammate. Not him. He'd obviously moved on already.  
Jev was angered by this more than anything because he remembered vividly talking with Daniel about Seb and how he would be such a difficult driver to be in a team with.

But there he was. He'd changed his mind very quickly. Obviously the ££ signs in his eyes making Sebastian more bearable. Money and his career obviously meant more to Daniel than him.

Jev was also tiring of the media coverage, the same old questions, 

'Do you feel that Red Bull made the right choice in not choosing you?' 

'Do you think Daniel is a better driver than you?' 

"Do you have a point to prove?"

Fuck off.

The questions bothered him. Angered him. Of course they did. But he bit his tongue, bided his time.   
His chance would come to reap revenge. He instead tried to be objective and the media seemed happy to believe that the sudden tension in the Toro Rosso camp was due to his jealously and disappointment in not getting to be Sebastian Vettel's teammate, Red Bulls No2.

Fuck him. Fuck them.

He wasn't jealous, no. But disappointed...

He didn't allow himself to think sadly about the time he'd spent with Daniel . He'd loved him at some time in the past. But now, he couldn't control his anger even when thinking of all the good times. The seemed so distant, so blurred.   
He had trouble believing they were memories. The twist in his gut however confirmed it. 

He wanted Daniel to fail. To see the error of his ways, to understand that he needed him, his Jev, in his life to succeed. 

Then they had met the night after Daniels first race. He hadn't done well. Jev had hounded him the whole race, his anger showing in his mistakes and erratic driving.   
He wanted to show Daniel that he could beat him, that he was better than he was, he wanted to punish him for leaving him. 

Alone. Hurting. Needing.

The media once again told stories of Jev trying to prove a point, that he was showing Red Bull they had make a mistake. And he was, but not in the way they thought. He couldn't give a shit about Red Bull, but Daniel...

But looking at the Australian, even after all this time and hurt fuelled anger, Jev could still read Daniel. He could understand him like a book that had written himself.

Chapter by chapter. Sentence by sentence. Word by word. 

He could see his sadness, his disappointment even through his broad, handsome grin. He doubted anyone else could see past the visage like he did so easily.

At that point, he had to ask, he had to know.

'Why did you stop fighting for me Daniel?'

Daniel looked him in the eye, more tears brewing to follow the ones now trialling down his cheeks.

'Because I didn't want you to love me anymore. I needed you to hate me. To let me go.'

Finally, honesty. 

Then the words really hit Jev. 

All he'd felt, all the emotion he'd directed towards the slightest thought of Daniel, it wasn't hate, so Daniel had failed. 

Jev knew from the way Daniel spoke so openly and from the empty look in his eyes, Australian didn't really want to succeed either.

Daniel had of course disappointed him by his actions, frustrated him even. This had manifested itself as hate. 

But Jev didn't hate Daniel. It wasn't possible. It would never be possible. 

How could he when he loved him with every ounce of his being. If anything, he loved him more now he couldn't have him than he did when he was truly his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, I enjoyed writing this one so much! 
> 
> I got so emotionally involved in it! Ricciardo/ Vergne would never be a pairing I would really choose to write about. I'm extremely glad I did.
> 
> Shows trying new things every now and then pays off! ;)
> 
> <3


	7. Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so we are at the end. 
> 
> Thank you once again to everyone who has left Kudos and comments so far on this Fic, especially the people who encouraged me to carry it on to its completion, I really did think it was dead in the water a couple of days ago. 
> 
> I guess I learned to love it again!
> 
> <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, there is some mild violence in this chapter, nothing too descriptive though.

Pride - Being too self-satisfied, boastful and arrogant

 

Bottas was fuming; he couldn't believe the nerve of the man, his teammate!  
Maldonado had driven him off the track, what had he wanted the Finn to do? Drive into him on the last lap of the Japanese Grand Prix? No, he had wanted Bottas to get out his way like a good boy.  
There weren't even any points to be won. It had all been pure arrogance on his part.

After the race, Bottas had pleaded with Claire, could she not see how wrong Maldonado had got it? Was he the one being unreasonable? The Venezuelan had clearly got power hungry at the end, to self absorbed that he put his own and the Finns careers, if not life's, on the line. He deserved to be punished, to be reprimanded by the team. He had acted dangerously and he needed to be made to understand.

Claire had calmed Bottas down a little by promising to talk to Maldonado.  
"Like it would do any good." The Finn thought to himself. Everyone seemed to tiptoe around the Venezuelan; it made him even more arrogant knowing he held such power.

Bottas was getting tired of having to listen to constant stories about Maldonado's win last season, how he had over came adversity to get the victory. How Bottas didn't even have a championship point yet.  
He made it sound like he was carrying the team, that Bottas was meaningless, that he was only there to make up the numbers. Maldonado would also be good at telling how he was better than the Williams team, above them, but was always very careful not to say so in front of the boss's.  
He was cunning and he thought he was better than the rules, that much was obvious.

Bottas thought of him as a bully. Plain and simple. He would try and intimidate people into getting what he wanted, disrespected the team and boasted about how he was safe in f1 even with all this uncertainty about where drivers would be next season.  
Maldonado considered himself one of the best. He claimed all he needed was a better car, usually blatantly in front of the team of mechanics, and then he would be up there with the best, Vettel, Alonso, Raikkonen...

However, Bottas know better. To be the best, you need to earn it. You didn't just become one of the best by winning races and trampling everyone in your wake. You needed respect, honour and the likeability factor. The Venezuelan had none of this.

But he had money.

Shaking his head at the injustice, the unfairness that skilled divers, respected drivers who maybe didn't have the funding behind them, were being ousted from formula one because of money.  
It was one of the main issues the team held there tongue when Maldonado started; they appreciated the money his seat bought him even if the appreciation and over all respect wasn't returned.

Still, Bottas tried to put it out his head and to the back of his mind and enjoy his night off before travelling back to the UK the next morning. He would have a couple of days at home and then a few days at the factory. Maldonado wouldn't be there so that was a bonus. 

But his peace didn't last long.

All of a sudden, Bottas' door sounded like it was being knocked down. He had a good idea who it was.

Opening the door, Bottas was met with a fuming Maldonado. He wore a mean look on his face and darkness in his eyes.  
He looked evil, as if he had all the badness in the world ready to unleash from him.  
Bottas was intimidated, he wasn't a fighter. But somehow, he managed to keep his cool and stand his ground.

Maldonado stepped forward, ever inch he got closer to Bottas, the devilment glinting brighter in his eyes. Then he spoke in barely a whisper but with pure spite and poison.

'So you'd thought you would run to Claire and tell on me did you Valtteri?' 

Bottas was now backing up, desperately trying to keep some sort of distance, a safety zone, a type of no man's land between himself and the Venezuelan.

He began to speak up; he wasn't going to be intimidated like this. 

'You were out of order today, and you know that. What were you trying to do, prove a point? We weren't racing for points. Did you not like that a rookie was in front of you?' 

And then Bottas was on the floor, blood beginning to pore from his nose and the Venezuelan bearing down in him for more.

'You think you're so smart!' Smack, hit to the eye...

'Think that you're the golden boy of the team!' Smack, slap to the face...

Maldonado grabbed Bottas by the top and spat at him, 'Well Valtteri, just remember who is better, who has earned the team points and who's got a race win. You. Are. Nothing. I carry this team, I demand the respect. Maybe one day you will be able to claim you are better than me!" 

Then Maldonado gave an evil laugh and leaned in far to close to the Finn.

"I very much doubt it though."

Bottas kept the eye contact; he wouldn't look like the weak one. He wouldn't fight back. He was above that. He didn't need to use his fists to get the better of Maldonado. 

After a final snide look up and down at the damage he had inflicted on Bottas, and another of his twisted smiles, Maldonado stood up and turned to walk out the room.

Bottas wasn't finished however. He stood up to his full height, ignoring the pain from his face and composed himself before speaking.

"You think you're so much better than me don't you? You think that I'm a piece of shit that is there for you to abuse. Well, maybe you have more points, experience and you have a race win. SO WHAT! Least I have something YOU don't."

Maldonado was now standing at the door, his hand on the handle, glairing at Bottas.

In his evil, sadistic whisper, he simply asked, "What?"

Bottas stared right back, trying to keep his composure, the rage shaking through him, wanting to knock him into next week. After throwing a look of utter contempt back at the Venezuelan, he levelled his voice and spoke.

I have integrity, I have morals. And most importantly, I have respect. I may never be one of the greats, but neither will you. You don't deserve it, you'll never earn it. You may think you are better than me, but I'll tell you one thing..."

Bottas began to walk over to Maldonado, each step making him stronger and more confident in himself. Maldonado held his gaze but Bottas was sure he seen a flicker of uneasiness. 

"I look forward to proving you wrong on the track."

The two men glared at each other, stuck in a battle of wills of who would give in first.

Maldonado shook his head at the Finn and snorted. Bottas wondered where this could go, would he get another punch to the face.  
But Maldonado simply opened the door ans left, the door snapping closed behind him.

Bottas sighed in relief. He was now aware again of his face throbbing, his eye felt tender and his nose was still spouting blood. As he looked at the damage in the bathroom mirror, he made a mental note of the injuries, the way in which Maldonado had marked him, as if to claim victory over him.

But Bottas knew that getting even by fighting him, by inflicting pain physically would only last for a short time. No, Bottas had a hunger for revenge, but he'd bide his time until the opportunity came...

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

 

USA Grand Prix 2013

Bottas crossed the line and was instantly congratulated by the pit wall. He couldn't believe it; he'd finished in 8th place! It meant the would to him to do this for the team.

As he got out the car in parc ferme, he felt like he could almost fly to the paddock to do his interviews. He was greeted personally by Claire Williams who hugged him tightly and thanked him profoundly for what he had done for the team; he'd made them believe and allowed them to dream again.  
He spoke to the journalists, happy to take the congratulations and well wishes. He felt he had deserved it. 

And then he saw him. He became aware that Maldonado was watching him, listening with an underlying spite and darkness on his face.

Then the interviewer spoke.

"How does it feel to get those 4 points out there today, that's been a big boost for the team, and of course makes you the top scorer for the team, and in your rookie year."

Bottas could have kissed the interviewer, but instead nodded his head in a thoughtful sort of way.

"its great to get the points for the team and my first few championship points of course, but really, we are in a team and everyone has to work together to achieve. Maldonado's single point is just as important as my four."

With the last line of words, Bottas switched his attention to Maldonado. He could practically feel the Venezuelan burn with anger beside him. He knew he would have heard and wouldn't like the sickly sentiment that Bottas had used concerning him. 

But right now, whatever Maldonado had in store for him, Bottas was on top of the world. The bragging rights had never tasted so sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not a religious person, but I felt this passage from the Bible described my "Pride" chapter perfectly!
> 
> "Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Prov 16:18). 
> 
> <3


End file.
